He looked on the clouds in western sky build-rising into wall; blue of before shadowed in change, violet gray premonition, or only ghost, of storm that would or would not be. They ran in the field. The beans were dry, combine’s run surrounded by chaff-billows of dust as it threshed all taken in from […]
All Posts By: Byron McCoy
Journal Pages
HEALING
It played again today as offering hymn. I recognized in the opening notes, lived again association and memory. My daughter sat beside, my arm around her shoulder, as we listen and I saw her searching for the memory—association to song and sound eluding whole of understanding. “How do I know this song?” […]